


The Sea

by VinHampton



Category: Original Work
Genre: Descent into Madness, Dreams, Madness, Original Character(s), POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Original Character, Psychological Drama, Psychology, Psychosis, Sea, The Odyssey - Freeform, Ulysses - Freeform, Wine, the sea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 04:04:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1730492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VinHampton/pseuds/VinHampton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a Sea in Vin's mind...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sea

It is the wine that leads me on, the wild wine. Rush with me to the shores of lunacy. Undress me. I shall dive in as I am, with my hair down – so. Would I could take your hand and lead you with me into the Sea. The things I need buried, like treasure, in treacherous caves. Why does X never mark the spot? In the sea, it is difficult to breathe; I have not yet earned my gills. You cannot fill a hole in the sand with the whole of the Sea. Wait for me on the sand – there is understanding in the sand – and I will tie this string around my wrist, and you can hold the other end. Be my tether; never let me go. 

Some things you will think of yourself; others, God will put into your mind.

I hold my breath and my heart beats in my ears. I will swim deeper, deeper, until I’ve reached the very centre of the world. And maybe you can breathe for me. (Hold on to that string, hold on with everything you have.) It’s hard to see down here, or is it up? There is nothing around me but dark wine. You cannot come this far without it staining you; the Seas incarnadine with blood. No stags, no totems. Not even Dionysius dares. (I’m alone. And I’m afraid.) 

There will be killing ‘til the score is paid.

How many days have I been here now? A hundred and eight? (When I return I shall hold you close, and your white arms round me will press as though forever.) I would welcome Scylla, sirens, lotus-root, only the sea is bounteous in its barrenness. But if that self-imposed god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so will I endure; for already have I suffered full much, and much have I toiled in perils of war. Tally up the score. Labyrinths are hardest when they have no walls, and I am a creature made for the sand. 

I am quite alone. I lie suspended like a feather in the cloudy mixtures of memory. I swim deeper, deeper still. I am growing weak and weary; are you the one that’s tugging on my wrist? I tread water (lovers, like gamblers, play to lose) until I reach the sea bed. I sweep layer after layer of wet sand, which rises to cloud my vision, and underneath it is nothing but looking-glass, showing me my own bewildered self.

I gaze skyward for help, but the sea holds no sky; only an endless scape of sunlight, fragmented, dancing parodies, spotlighting nothing. Spotlighting me. I’m coming back to you, if I can survive the bends.


End file.
